


disciplinary action

by SuperBlondie



Series: Kinktober 2020 [3]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Bratting, Collars, Corporal Punishment, Dacryphilia, Discipline, Disobeying Orders, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Fucking Machines, Humiliation, M/M, Master/Slave, Mirror Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Punishment, Safe Sane and Consensual, Safewords, Spanking, because you have to have that, collaring, junmyeon being a brat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:46:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27083599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperBlondie/pseuds/SuperBlondie
Summary: In which Junmyeon just can't help himself.
Relationships: Kim Junmyeon | Suho/Kim Minseok | Xiumin
Series: Kinktober 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1956094
Comments: 12
Kudos: 142





	disciplinary action

**Author's Note:**

> Day 12: Feet | Shotgunning | **Dacryphilia**  
>  Day 13: Body worship | **Spanking** | Frottage  
> Day 14: NTR | Face-sitting | **Collaring**  
>  Day 15: Prostitution | Armpit | Massage _(Mirror sex)_  
>  Day 16: **Fucking machine** | Feederism | Intercrural sex  
> Day 17: _Three (or more) some_ | **Master/slave** | Titfucking  
> Day 18: Petplay | **Humiliation** | Bloodplay 
> 
> So this one is a bit more rough as far as the writing goes because i was really struggling, but I still hope you enjoy it! As always, if I miss something in the tags please let me know!

Junmyeon knows better than to misbehave. Minseok taught him better than that, than to act like one of the brats that always end up being dragged up onto one of the stages at the club they frequent to be punished for everyone to see. 

Minseok is a very forgiving Master, particularly when it comes to accidents and honest mistakes, but his rules are strict and absolute and his punishments are fucking  _ brutal _ . 

The rules truly aren’t that intense when compared to what Junmyeon has heard other subs discuss—hold whatever position Minseok puts him in until given permission to rest or to change into a different position, speak in public only when given permission, never leave Minseok’s sight when out of the house, never talk back, obey any other rules given by Minseok in the moment without attitude, safeword out the moment the walls start closing in on him and he doesn’t want to play anymore. 

Junmyeon knows his rules inside and out. He recites them when Minseok asks, which is before every official scene. So he knows them, and he knows Minseok knows he knows them, and he knows that any intentional failure to follow those rules means serious punishment, the sort that ends with him sobbing in Minseok’s arms and begging to be forgiven, shaking so hard he’s afraid he’ll come out of his skin if Minseok doesn’t take care of him. Minseok does, Minseok always takes care of him, forgives him, loves him. But that’s hard to remember around the twentieth hit of Minseok’s belt against his ass.

Junmyeon knows better than to misbehave. 

“Sit still,” Minseok slides his fingers into Junmyeon’s hair to hold him steady, fisting the soft brown strands and yanking his head back. And that hiss means Junmyeon has already crossed the line, that he’s pushed his luck too far. He’s been breaking position over and over for the past few minutes, squirming, fidgeting, shifting his weight from his knees to his heels and back again. It makes the plug inside him shift as well, pressing against all the right spots and making him move that much more to try and ease up the pressure inside him.

Minseok let the first few occurrences slide without correction. Junmyeon had assumed position nearly forty-five minutes ago and he can only kneel for so long before he needs to shift his weight around for just a few moments to ease that pins-and-needles sensation crawling up his feet.

Then came the first warning, a tap on the shoulder that usually serves to ground him in the present and remind him of what he has been ordered to do. The second warning is another, firmer tap on the shoulder and sharp tug on the back of his collar. Junmyeon usually only starts to break position like this when he’s deep inside his head; Minseok just gives him a good startle to bring him back and then they carry on with their night.

If Junmyeon isn’t misbehaving on accident, if he’s having a bratty moment, the tug on his collar usually serves as a pretty good reminder of how stupid he’s being by acting out and he gets his shit together. That’s how a good majority of Junmyeon’s bratty moments end, with a tug on his collar and his eyes going wide as he remembers what’s waiting for him if he doesn’t fix his behavior.

But not this time. This time, Junmyeon doesn’t care about the tug on his collar or the irritation that’s radiating off of Minseok in waves, because this is the most attention Junmyeon’s gotten all night.

He’s spent all night quiet and still at Minseok’s feet like a good boy, dressed up pretty just the way Minseok likes. Junmyeon picked out this outfit specifically because Minseok asked him to go the extra mile. He even put on  _ make-up  _ for tonight, all to make Minseok happy. 

Now, he feels a little stupid in his sheer white dress shirt that’s been left mostly unbuttoned so that it just drapes over his shoulders in case Minseok wants to touch him and the tight black jeans he only ever digs out of his closet on Minseok’s request because they’re too damn tight. And the collar, but the thick strip of leather looped around the base of Junmyeon’s throat is a given on nights like these.

Junmyeon refuses to enter the club without his collar fastened securely around his neck. He likes the sense of safety the sign of ownership brings, how no strangers will approach him without Minseok’s prior permission. 

He is  _ Minseok’s  _ in every sense of the word. Minseok’s to control, Minseok’s to discipline, Minseok’s to reward, Minseok’s to fuck, Minseok’s to care for. Everything he does is for the sole purpose of serving his Master, and Minseok told him before they left for the club earlier in the evening that he had been excellent all day and was well on his way to earning a hefty reward if he kept it up. And he has, Junmyeon has worked hard to squash any bratty impulses before they can take root.

He has been  _ excellent  _ all day, from when they first woke up that morning to just a few minutes ago.

And so he would just like to know  _ why  _ Minseok is refusing to give him any fucking attention.

Not once since Junmyeon sank to his knees at the foot of Minseok’s barstool has he received even the barest acknowledgement that he exists. Minseok is typically pretty generous with his attention when they’re in the club, Minseok chatting with their friends while Junmyeon holds position and drifts. A hand will travel down every few minutes to card through Junmyeon’s hair or trace the lines of his face, slip underneath the collar to rub idly against the soft skin of his neck. 

Junmyeon thrives off of it, not an attention whore like Luhan likes to call him, because it isn’t like he wants anyone else to touch him, just Minseok. He isn’t Chanyeol, a puppy that gets passed between Jongdae, Kyungsoo, and Baekhyun depending on the day. He’s just a slave who is very needy when it comes to his Master.

So, when his Master refused to give him attention, Junmyeon decided he would  _ make  _ him. 

He shifts, squirms, toes the line of breaking a rule. He told himself he would stop once Minseok finally started paying attention to him, but then the first and second warnings came and went and Junmyeon realized he didn’t want to stop. Because he knew if he did that Minseok would go right back to his boring conversation with Luhan about the stock market. No more attention for Junmyeon.

That just wouldn’t do.

So Junmyeon kept moving, never enough to be outright disobedient, but enough to piss Minseok off. And he did. 

Minseok is visibly pissed, anger written in the furrow between his eyebrows and the deep downturn of his lips. “You’re pushing your luck, slut. Move another fucking muscle and see what happens. ” 

Junmyeon doesn’t bother fighting the urge to flinch, to bow his head and hold his body statue-still until Minseok tells him otherwise. It’s been a long, long time since he pushed Minseok this far and uncertainty curls in his belly about whether this ploy for attention was such a good idea after all. Junmyeon likes to be a brat, but he usually has more freedom to do so, not held fast by a direct order. He can prance around the house and be annoying until Minseok puts him over his knee for a few swats on his ass and sends him on his way again.

Minseok doesn’t allow for that sort of freedom in public. He keeps Junmyeon kneeling at his side until he needs him for something else. Even then, it’s always done with direct orders, Junmyeon pinned against his list of unbreakable rules. Junmyeon swallows nervously, dropping his gaze and refusing to even dare look at Minseok’s face. He’s supposed to be absolutely perfect in public, supposed to make Minseok look good to all their friends. 

He’s never as good as Chanyeol, because Chanyeol’s a stupid slut when he’s playing and  _ lives  _ to serve and obey anyone who will give him a belly rub. But Junmyeon is usually second when it comes to behavior and Minseok is always so smug when someone in the club comments on it. Junmyeon gets extra attention those nights, head pulled back so Minseok can kiss him, sometimes even called up to sit in his lap and cuddle.

He wonders if that’s what Minseok was waiting for. If he was just waiting for someone to compliment him on his well-behaved slave and then he would let Junmyeon cuddle and shower him in attention. 

It’s too late for that now, all promises of a reward ground into dust. Junmyeon can only kneel silently and hope he can backpedal across the line fast enough to save himself.

Mercifully, Minseok doesn’t yank him up to his feet and drag him out of the club to be punished back at home. He keeps his fist in Junmyeon’s hair, eyes running up and down his body, searching for a single part of him that isn’t holding position. He scrutinizes Junmyeon’s face in case he has decided to pull some sort of attitude, in case he’s scowling back up at his Master the way he used to when they were first settling into their dynamic.

Junmyeon may be needy, but he’s not fucking stupid. Breaking position is one thing, pulling an attitude is like diving headfirst into a fucking trash compacter.

He makes sure he looks just as chastised as he feels, truly remorseful for misbehaving.

Minseok must like what he sees. He lets go of Junmyeon’s hair and allows him to fully settle back into his kneeling position without a word. “My apologies,” Minseok says as he turns his attention back to the man sitting next to him at the bar, Junmyeon little more than an afterthought once more, “As you were saying, Luhan?”

Junmyeon really does try to soldier on through the rest of the night, telling himself that he’ll only have to keep it together for an hour at the very most. Luhan had just asked Minseok to meet him for a drink at the club, catching up before he left for a business trip in China. He said his flight was early so he couldn’t stay very long. Even now Luhan mentions how he has to be at the airport before sunrise. 

Both he and Minseok ask the bartender for one last drink and a glass of water before closing out their tabs. Junmyeon tries to remember all those deep breathing exercises his therapist taught him to help manage his stress levels at work, drawing boxes in his mind and trying to lose himself to the music floating through the speakers, bass rumbling softly through the floor. 

But he’s so fucking lonely. 

Minseok still isn’t giving him any attention. He’s solely focused on Luhan and soccer and business and Junmyeon isn’t sure how much more he can take. 

Being ignored is a thing for some other subs who like to take on the slave role the way Junmyeon does. He knows Mingyu enjoys the idea that he is something lesser than, only to be acknowledged when he can be of use. Junmyeon doesn’t like to play that way, though, and he knows Minseok knows that too. Junmyeon is a slave, but he’s still precious, still favored, still Minseok’s lovely little rabbit.

So he just can’t understand why Minseok is doing this to him right now.

His head is so full that he can hardly think, irritation and desperation swirling into one horrible mass of discomfort. His head is still bowed so that neither Minseok nor Luhan can see him blinking back tears as that storm travels down his spine to settle in the middle of his chest, an ache behind his sternum. 

For a second, he wonders if he should use his safeword. He and Minseok use the stoplight system; it’d be so easy to say  _ yellow  _ and then see if he can tell his Master how he feels without crying. Because he knows he can’t cry, not when he’s calling  _ yellow,  _ or else Minseok hears  _ red  _ and stops the play right then and there, especially if there’s no outward reason for him to be crying like pain or humiliation. 

Junmyeon doesn’t want to stop play, he just wants Minseok to stop ignoring him.

Still, Junmyeon’s heart is starting to pound in his chest as his need for just a moment of attention, just a single head scratch or pat on the shoulder, starts to boil over. He struggles to keep his breathing steady.

And he realizes he should have safeworded after Minseok let go of his hair, he should have asked for permission to speak the moment he started to feel uncomfortable. Junmyeon isn’t good at controlling his emotions once they’ve gotten this big, a gaping maw in his chest that’s sucking him in, demanding he fix it,  _ make  _ Minseok love him. 

The feeling draws in tighter and tighter, anxiety reaching a fever pitch before it all finally snaps. The anger and sadness fight for a moment—Junmyeon hopes it’s the sadness that wins out, because Minseok is a lot more forgiving when Junmyeon cries. 

Instead, a burst of anger floods through his veins and he just can’t help himself. He sits back on his heels so he can look up at Minseok, face twisted in a scowl. He cuts Minseok off in the middle of a sentence, “Why aren’t you paying attention to me?” He doesn’t think he’s ever sounded so snarky, so impudent, so  _ bratty  _ before. 

Minseok’s head snaps toward him, eyes wide in utter disbelief. Quiet rage spreads across his face. It’s slow-moving, cold, water under ice. “What did you just say to me?”

And Junmyeon immediately shrinks in on himself, already whimpering out an apology. “N-nothing. Nothing! I’m sorry, Master, I didn’t say anything! I’ll be good. I’m so sorry. I didn’t say anything! I won’t say anything!”

“I asked you a question, boy, now answer it,” Minseok grabs him by the collar and drags him in close, until he can feel Minseok’s breath against his skin. All he can do is shake and beg to be forgiven, not a hint of brat left in him. He wanted attention, but not like  _ this.  _

“I’m sorry,” Junmyeon whispers, “I’m so sorry!”

Minseok growls and stands, grabbing Junmyeon by the arm to force him to his feet as well. “I am so, so sorry, Luhan, but I’ll have to leave a bit earlier than I would like because I’ve got a stupid, useless bitch for a slave. It looks like I’m going to have to spend the rest of my night teaching him the rules he should already know. We’ll catch up once you come back, alright?”

Luhan nods. He takes a long sip of his drink, eyes cold as he stares right through Junmyeon. “Of course, go, take care of your brat. He’s lucky you prefer to do things in private and don’t drag his disobedient ass up onto the stage. So disappointing too. He’s usually so good for you.”

“I know. He was well on his way to earning a reward tonight, if you can believe it. I’m not sure what’s gotten into him, but I am damn sure it’s not going to happen again.” 

Junmyeon stumbles forward after Minseok gives him a hard shove from behind, pushing him towards the exit. Minseok hisses for him to move. He keeps his head down and walks, arms wrapped around himself in a mockery of comfort. “I’m sorry,” he tries one more time as they weave through the crowd.

“Another fucking word out of your mouth without permission and I swear, Junmyeon. I swear I’ll make you regret it.” So Junmyeon shuts his mouth and hurries out of the club with Minseok hot on his heels. The receptionist watches them go with eyebrows raised and her mouth dropped open in surprise. They’re regulars here; everyone is going to know about his outburst by the end of the night. Junmyeon feels embarrassment burn through him, tears stinging the backs of his eyes again.

The drive back home is deathly silent. Minseok makes him sit in the backseat, saying that the passenger seat is a privilege for slaves who can obey. That hurts, but Junmyeon doesn’t attempt even a token resistance. He climbs into the backseat and buckles himself in. He keeps his hands folded in his lap and his head bowed the entire ride, stewing in his own thoughts.

That’s one of the worst punishments Minseok can give him, the silence, leaving him to his thoughts. 

Guilt is already starting to eat away at him. He  _ knew  _ tonight was meant for Luhan and Minseok to spend some time together before Luhan disappears into China for half a year and Minseok is left without his best friend. Junmyeon should have just knelt and made the night as easy possible. But he had to be a greedy, selfish bitch and ruin everything, cost Minseok a whole hour because he had to take Junmyeon home and deal with him.

Junmyeon wants to apologize again. He wants to offer to be punished at the club even though he hates public discipline so that way Minseok will still be able to spend a little more time with his best friend. He doesn’t, because he told him to keep his mouth shut and Junmyeon Isn't about to push his luck even a millimeter further.

As much as he hates it, he  _ wants  _ Minseok to punish him, because then he’ll be forgiven and he won’t have to think about what he did ever again. 

Minseok doesn’t say a word until the front door to their house is locked tight behind them. The deadbolt flips, keys clink as they come to rest in their special ceramic disk. “What the fuck was that?” 

Junmyeon is busy kneeling, pulling off his shoes and carefully putting them away in their assigned cubby. He swallows. His fingertips tingle with anxiety. “I don’t know, Master. I’m sorry. I really, truly don’t know. I just—something hurt, and I didn’t know how to fix it. M-may I take your shoes for you?”

“You better. At least I know you can do that right.” Minseok sits down on the little bench that holds the shoe cubbies and watches Junmyeon meticulously unlaces and puts away his dress shoes. Junmyeon goes through each cubbie and makes sure all the shoes are settled just as Minseok likes them. He hopes against hope that he’ll earn himself some mercy.

And then, once everything has been tidied away and Junmyeon has settled back in his resting position, hands folded, eyes forward, Minseok leans down and grabs Junmyeon by the chin. He forces Junmyeon to look up, and his eyes are much kinder than expected.

“Something was hurting? Body or mind,” Minseok asks.

“Mind.” 

Minseok hums. Junmyeon bites down hard on his bottom lip to keep it from trembling. It’s pulled out from between his teeth a heartbeat later. “None of that. Was this hurt something you should have used your safeword on?” 

Junmyeon shrugs, gaze dropping to his Master’s lips to avoid those searching, scrutinizing eyes. 

Minseok asks him again, more forcefully. “Did you think about using your safeword but choose not to?”

“Yes, Master. I w-wanted to, but I didn’t think it was that bad. I didn’t think I needed to call yellow and mess up your evening. I just wanted you to stop ignoring me, I’m so sorry.” Junmyeon feels the first tear well up and run down his cheek. He’s so guilty, so, so guilty. He knows what he did was wrong and it hurts so bad he feels like he can hardly breathe.

“Oh, Junmyeon,” Minseok sighs and drops his head into his hands. “My dear, sweet Junmyeon, you know better than that. There is no waiting with a safeword, if you want to use it, you use it. I wish you  _ had  _ called yellow, or at least asked for permission to speak and told me you were feeling distress, because then we could have avoided this whole mess entirely.”

“I know. I know, Master. Please forgive me for breaking so many rules.”

A hand lands on Junmyeon’s head, fingernails scratching gently against his scalp. “I will, but not until you earn it. I understand you were very distressed and that led you to acting out, but that doesn’t excuse your behavior, do you understand? There is no excuse for breaking so many rules like that.”

He nods. “Yes, yes, I understand. I’m sorry. I knew better. But, Master, do you? You...you don’t.”

Minseok chuckles. “I don’t hate you, silly boy. I still love you. But I am going to have to punish you. You want that though, don’t you? You want me to punish you so that this is all over and we can finish out the weekend with good behavior. Up, to the bedroom. Clothes off, plug out, on your belly at the edge of the bed nearest the closet.”

Junmyeon gasps at that, eyes going wide. “Y-you don’t mean? You don’t, you  _ can’t!  _ I wasn’t that bad!”

The smile on Minseok’s face drops. He grabs Junmyeon by the hair and gets right into his space, baring his teeth to make Junmyeon cower. “I can’t? Who are you to say what I can and cannot do? Are you in charge? Are you my Master?”

“N-no! No, I’m not! You’re my Master, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Master, it wasn’t my place. I do what you tell me to, no questions, no complaints. I’m sorry,” Junmyeon whimpers out, pathetic, terrified.

“That’s right, stupid fucking brat. You are mine to do what I want with, I  _ own  _ you. Seems like you’ve been forgetting that tonight.” When Minseok lets go of his hair, Junmyeon launches himself to his feet. Minseok snaps his fingers and points toward the bedroom. “You broke three rules tonight already, this is the punishment you’ve earned.”

Junmyeon nods and runs to the bedroom, not wanting to give even the appearance of hesitation. He dumps all his clothes into the hamper, not wanting to take the time to fold them nice and neat. It’s not like he’ll be getting dressed again anyway. Junmyeon will be surprised if he puts on a single stitch of clothing before Monday morning. 

The plug is next. Junmyeon settles on his hands and knees on the edge of the bed. He braces all his weight on his right arm before reaching back with his left to slowly pull the plug out of him. It’s one of their smaller ones, meant to keep him open more than anything else. His ass still clings to it though, sucking it in as he tries to pull it out. He breathes out a shaky whimper, pleasure prickling out from his hole like pins and needles. When the plug finally comes free, he sets it on the nightstand.

Junmyeon frowns as he settles himself on his belly, ass pointed towards the closet that holds their toys. “I’m ready, Master,” he calls. His heart races in his chest. This is one of his least favorite punishments, worse than being blindfolded and hand-cuffed, worse than the floggers.

He listens as Minseok’s footsteps sound down the hallway. They stop in the bedroom doorway, and something clatters onto the dresser—Minseok’s watch, his rings. That means Junmyeon is getting spanked tonight in addition to the punishment waiting for him in the closet. 

His Master doesn’t comment on how he’s set himself up, only stepping close to spread his cheeks apart and make sure that he’s removed his plug. Minseok thumbs at his hole, humming. Junmyeon yelps as the sensitive insides of his thighs are slapped. “Legs further apart. Do you need more lube?”

“Yes, please, Master.”

“Alright. Remember that you can ask for more lube at any time. You  _ must  _ ask for more lube if it starts to hurt, that’s an order. No punishment is ever meant to leave lasting damage. Can I trust you to keep your hands by your head? Or are you going to keep up this brat bullshit and make me handcuff you?” Minseok moves around behind him, the closet door sliding open and something heavy scraping against the carpet.

Junmyeon swallows. Cold lube is smeared around his rim, pressed inside him by quick, clinical fingers. “I can hold still, I promise. Please don’t handcuff me, I’ll be good. I’m not going to be a brat anymore.”

“You say that, but I won’t believe it until I see it.” Junmyeon whimpers as something heavy and blunt is pressed up against his hole. Minseok pats him on the ass like he’s settling a skittish horse. “I know you know, but I want to be clear. The first part of your punishment is to be fucked by the fucking machine. You will be fucked by the medium attachment at whatever speed I like. You have been prepared, but if it starts to hurt you are to tell me immediately so I can make sure you aren’t being injured. Why are you being punished? What are your safewords?”

“I am being punished because I broke position, I spoke without permission, and I did not use my safewords when I needed to. My safewords are green to keep going, yellow to slow down or pause, and red to stop.” He turns his head when the mattress dips beside him. 

Minseok is sitting cross-legged beside him with the remote to the fucking machine in his lap. He looks so beautiful, silvery blond hair falling into his eyes as he toys with the settings on the remote. “Good boy. You are going to lie here and let the machine fuck you until I’m satisfied that you’ve earned my forgiveness. You have permission to come, but I will not stop the machine just because you’re oversensitive. I will do whatever I want to you while you’re being fucked, but your mouth will always be free in case you need to use your safewords. I still love you, you are still mine. Do you understand?”

Junmyeon nods, staring up at his Master with unabashed adoration. Even when he’s about to punish him until he cries, Junmyeon can’t help but love him with his entire being. He  _ wants  _ to be good for him, to make him happy. 

He cries out when Minseok presses a button on the remote and the machine behind him whirs to life with a low rumble. A thick, heavy silicone cock pushes deep inside him, breaking him open in one unyielding thrust. It’s their medium cock, smaller than Minseok’s but big enough to open him up. He’s wet enough, stretched enough, but he sure as hell isn’t ready, not for the way the machine fucks him without a single care for his comfort. 

It sinks in deep, to the hilt, Junmyeon’s hole clenching as it is slowly, relentlessly filled. There’s a moment of pause as it finishes out its thrust. He whines, eyes squeezed shut. Then the dildo is pulled out completely in that same steady fashion.

Junmyeon fists the bed sheets and tries to brace himself as the fake cockhead pops out of him. He manages to suck in a breath before the machine fucks in again. It fucks him in an unchanging rhythm, fuck in, the entire dildo disappearing inside him, fuck out, leaving him empty and clenching around empty air. 

He’s had enough experience with this machine that he knows this is the slowest it goes, the easiest. This the fucking  _ warm-up.  _

Then it speeds him three notches, little clicks of the remote, and Junmyeon yelps as it starts fucking him harder, faster, body rocking with the force. Minseok grabs his hips and tilts them back until the dildo is rubbing over his prostate with each thrust in and out.

“There you go,” Minseok coos at him as he moans and squeezes his eyes shut against the pleasure making his cock harden against the mattress. Tears well up from the sharp, electric pleasure that’s knifing its way through him. Minseok’s hand smooths down his spine. “This is what you wanted, wasn’t it? You say you wanted attention but we both know you just needed a cock in your ass. I could tie you up and leave you here for the machine to take and you’d be perfectly happy, wouldn’t you?”

Junmyeon whines high in the back of his throat and tries not to lose himself in the pleasure. Because he is such a stupid slut for cock, arousal bubbling in his gut as the machine fucks him fast and deep.

A harsh slap lands on Junmyeon’s ass. “I asked you a question, bitch! Answer me!”

“Yes,” Junmyeon shouts without thinking. Minseok turns the machine up another level and forces Junmyeon to get his knees under him to push his ass up to take the dildo deeper, presenting himself for the silicone cock. “W-wait, no! No, I only want your cock, Master. I’m only happy when you’re happy!”

“Only happy when I’m happy?” A slap on Junmyeon’s left cheek, then his right. Minseok grabs him by the chin and leans down until they’re eye-to-eye. “Then why the fuck did you act like that tonight, huh? You’re an entitled little brat, couldn’t survive a single hour without attention. I should have set you up on stage with the club’s machine and let everyone else give you attention. The club has some big cocks. None are too big for you, of course. You’ll take any cock I give you and come on it like the cockslut you are. The whole club could watch your little ass swallow up a cock as big as my fist, they’d probably go wild seeing your twink ass gaping open. Would you still need my attention then? Even with all those people staring at you as you cry and come?” 

Junmyeon hiccups and feels his cock kick against his stomach, fully hard and starting to leak at the tip. Minseok doesn’t see it,  _ can’t  _ see it, but he smirks anyway. And shame floods Junmyeon in a river; he’s such a slut, turned on at the idea of all those strangers watching him be taken apart by a machine. It’s humiliating and exhilarating and he doesn’t know what to do about it, letting out pitiful little tears. 

“Y-yes, I would. I only want your attention, Master. I-if you want other people to look at me— _ ah!  _ Please, please, it’s so deep. If you want to show me off, that’s your choice, but you’re the only one who matters.” Because he would never want anyone else to see him the way Minseok sees him, not really. He lets their friends see him when Minseok wants to play in a group, but Junmyeon only ever puts on a show for his Master.

Minseok must like hearing that, because the remote is set off to the side and he shifts onto his knees, a smile on his face as he sets both hands on Junmyeon’s shoulders. “Is that so? Am I really that important to you?”

“Of course. There’s no one more important than you, Master.” Junmyeon watches him with wide eyes, mouth open as drool begins to run down over his bottom lip. He can’t remember to swallow his own spit, attention split between trying to keep himself from reaching down and taking his own cock in hand and trying not to lose his fucking mind from the way the machine is rocking the dildo right against his sweet spots to bother with it.

“You’re such a little suck-up,” Minseok sighs. But he’s smiling, and his hands slide from the meat of Junmyeon’s trapezoids down his arms, until his fingers close around Junmyeon’s wrists and then slide back up again. “But you’re genuine. Honest. You really did need my attention earlier, didn’t you? Do you like how I’m touching you now?”

Junmyeon nods helplessly. “I always like it when you touch me.”

Minseok hums. He explores Junmyeon’s body, every bit he can reach. It’s nothing new to him, all territory he has explored and marked as his own a thousand times; he takes so much time with it though, mapping Junmyeon out as though it was the first time he was ever allowed to touch. He kisses the moles dotting Junmyeon’s back as his fingers trace the dips and valleys of his ribcage. 

The harsh, careless way the machine fucks him is at such striking odds with how Minseok runs his hands over Junmyeon’s body. They’re reverent in the way they touch him, almost, the way Jongdae gets when he prays at his bedside at night. Junmyeon cries, feeling chastised and humiliated and worshipped all at once.

“So pretty when you cry,” Minseok says. The bulge in his pants grows bigger, throbs. Junmyeon knows Minseok likes it when he cries. He likes that sense of power that comes with it, the control.

He reaches down and spanks Junmyeon’s ass in quick, hard swats, a hand at the back of his neck to hold him in place as if he can move much with the machine fucking him stupid. His cock throbs where it’s caught between his stomach and the mattress.

“How many rules did you break tonight, brat? Three? Three rules that I  _ know _ you know. And you didn’t just break my rules, you decided to put on a fucking attitude like a bratty little bitch. I trained you better than what I saw tonight. The way you spoke to me—don’t you  _ ever  _ speak to me like that again. Or I’ll take your collar and make you spend a whole weekend trying to earn it back,” Minseok bares his teeth in a snarl and Junmyeon can’t help but cry, shaking with the need to beg to keep his collar.  _ That  _ is the worst thing Minseok could ever do to him, taking his collar, leaving him a Master-less slave groveling on the floor for a second chance.

It’s something he’ll have to tell Minseok that can never be a possibility. No matter how big a brat he is, that just can’t be an option for punishment. It would hurt too much.

He thinks Minseok knows it too, because the hand on the back of his neck slides up to card through the soft hair at the back of his head, blunt nails scratching against his scalp in just the right way. 

“How many times should I spank you tonight?” Minseok isn’t really asking, because Junmyeon’s opinion means nothing right now unless he uses his safewords. “Thirty? Ten for each rule?” Junmyeon whimpers. Minseok doesn’t play when it comes to official spankings; he’ll be lucky if he’s able to sit comfortably by Monday morning if Minseok decides to really spank him. 

Minseok stops spanking him for a moment. He digs his nails into the heated, reddened skin of Junmyeon’s ass and grins and the painful whine that crawls out of his throat. “Yeah, I think that will be perfect. You’re going to take thirty hits to your pretty little ass, and you’re going to count each one for me. If you miss a count, we start over. Do you understand?”

Junmyeon nods. Tears run down his face to join the drool and sweat soaking the sheets beneath him. “Yes, Master, I understand. Do you want me over your lap or on my hands and knees?”

“Neither. You’re going to lay right here and let the machine fuck you while I spank you.” 

A dawning sense of horror begins to overtake him as he realizes what sort of punishment he’s really in for. He wanted Minseok’s attention, and now he has it in abundance.

The remote clicks up and the machine is going so fast now. Cold lube is poured over Junmyeon’s hole before he can even ask for it. He yelps once when the cold liquid hits his rim, again when the sensation makes him clench up and press the fake cock spearing him open even harder against his prostate. 

Minseok’s hand lands down hard on Junmyeon’s right cheek, right as the dildo is bottoming out. “Count,” his Master orders.

“O-one,” Junmyeon squeezes his shut. Another hit, this time on his left cheek. “Two.” The fucking machine rails him without a shred of mercy, force his cock to spit out precum as his balls draw up tight to his body.

The next slaps come in a set of three, quick, hard, each one making him tighten up around the silicone cock inside him. He counts each one in between moans that are getting higher, more desperate. He claws at the sheets, caught between his Master and the machine. His body rocks with the machine’s steady, unyielding thrusts, predictable but so good that Junmyeon can’t think well enough to brace himself. 

“Seven,” he sobs. “Eight!” Sweat beads at his temples and his whole body shakes, pleasure and pain snapping at each other’s tails as they chase each other around and around up Junmyeon’s spine. His ass hurts so bad but the cock inside feels so good. His wires cross and his abdomen goes taught, a heavy ball of  _ toomuch  _ gathering in his gut. 

He’s going to come. 

Minseok knows it too. “I want you looking straight ahead, watch yourself come like the slutty brat you are.”

It’s coming at him a lot like a tsunami, some of the overwhelming confusion disappearing, tide pulled back into the wave. It won’t be the last one of the night. He’s sure of that, sure Minseok is going to make him come until he screams for mercy and physically cannot come again. 

He’s crying helplessly, gasping for air. “Nine!” The shriek hurts his throat. He can hardly hear himself or the machine over the roar in his ears. 

“Eyes straight ahead, Junmyeon. Don’t make me tell you again.”

Junmyeon forces himself to lift his head and look forward. Their full-length mirror is right there, mounted on the wall. In it, staring back at him, is his own reflection, face a mess of drool and tears, red from exertion. Behind him is the machine, a metallic, hydraulic beast of a box. He can see the gears move, powering the arm connected to the dildo to fuck him so hard he’s going to be waddling the next morning. To Junmyeon’s side, Minseok watches him in the mirror, still completely dressed and looking so fucking hot, so fucking  _ mean.  _

Junmyeon hiccups at the sight of himself all fucked up, the picture of a slut well taken care of. For a moment he really can’t believe that’s him, but there’s no mistaking the firetruck red of his ass where it’s been tilted up to give the machine more room to work and the collar around his neck. Shame turns him an even dark shade of red as he realizes, almost like it’s a thought from outside his own head, that he looks sexy,  _ pornographic,  _ like this.

It’s sinful. It’s nasty. It’s narcissistic. It’s so fucking  _ hot.  _

Minseok grins and it’s so evil. He brings his hand down  _ hard  _ on Junmyeon’s ass just as the machine thrusts in and holds, paused by the remote. It hurts and Junmyeon is so full and his face is screwed up in pleasure in the mirror, squirming on a cock the way he’s meant to be.

“Ten,” he sobs. And then he comes, the wave slamming into him full force.

He drowns for a while, moaning into the blankets. His ass tries to milk the dildo, but Minseok turns the machine back on seconds after he starts coming so all he really does is drive himself crazy. He comes a lot, enough that he can feel it on stuck to his belly and soaking into the sheets under his hips. It’s disgusting, even more so when he remembers that there is no way in hell this is all he’s going to come tonight.

He comes for so long it almost starts to hurt, pleasure cresting and then plateauing because that stupid machine  _ won’t stop.  _ It’s much, much slower, but it’s still fucking him, pushing past where he’s red and swollen and tender and into his core.

The only consolation he has is that Minseok doesn’t spank him while he comes. Junmyeon is pretty sure that he’d fall apart if Minseok didn’t give him that short respite; he’s absolutely certain that there’s no way he would be able to keep count of hits like this, either. He’d have to start over at zero and his poor little ass can’t take forty hits, not with the power Minseok’s been using.

When Junmyeon finally catches his breath, Minseok rubbing over his shoulders and down his back to settle him, the eleventh hit comes. Junmyeon counts it, stuttering and breathless. 

“Good boy. See? I knew you could be good for me, I just have to work the brat out of you.” Minseok kisses the top of his head and turns the machine but to it’s usual debilitating pace. “Nineteen more hits to go, and then we’ll see if I think you’ve earned a reward for taking your punishment so well. Do you think you can come again?”

Junmyeon sobs at the thought of it, still so shaky and sensitive from the last orgasm. But he nods. “If Master wants me to, I can.” His cock starts trying to get hard again.

Minseok coos at him. “There’s my Junmyeonnie. I want to see you come again from just my hand and the machine. You can come without your little cock if that makes it easier, I don’t mind. I just like watching your hole clench around cock like it’ll die without it. Come again by the thirtieth hit or I’ll keep spanking you until you do.”

“Twelve, thirteen, fourteen! Yes, Master, I will!” It’s all so much. Junmyeon puts his head down, forgetting Minseok’s order to watch himself in the mirror, and cries. Full-body, uncontrollable sobs. 

Minseok wants him to come by the time he counts thirty and they’re already halfway through. Minseok isn’t one to draw out spankings overly long, so Junmyeon has maybe five minutes if he’s lucky and his Master decides he’s done well enough to earn some sort of mercy. The worst part of it is that he can already feel his next orgasm coming.

It’s not going to be a good one, going to hurt so bad, overwhelming pleasure against raw nerves. But it’s coming, cock somehow hard again. He’ll be a good slave for his Master no matter what, because it’s all he can do after being such a brat tonight.

The only consolation he has is the sight of Minseok undoing his slacks and pulling out his cock, red and thick. Junmyeon finally manages to swallow his spit as he stares at it. He watches his own pupils dilate, gaze focused on the precum sliding down Minseok’s shaft. He wants it. He’s barreling towards a painful orgasm, but  _ fuck  _ he wants that cock in him. He wants to feel it hot and heavy inside him, Minseok gently smothering him into the blankets and filling him up with cum.

“You want it, slut? Look at your face, of course you do.” Minseok delivers the fifteenth and sixteenth hits lower, on the underside of his ass. “At least you always do your job as a cocksleeve right. I never met someone so eager for cock. In your mouth, in your ass, you don’t care where I stick my cock as long as you get it, do you? You may answer.”

“Uh-huh,” Junmyeon jerks and sobs when the machine speeds up again, whirring loudly behind him as it works him open, works his prostate until his cock is leaking all over again. His cum is still wet and tacky against this stomach and he’s leaking precum. 

“Is that how you answer me?” Seventeen, eighteen, nineteen. 

Junmyeon shakes his head. His gut tenses and he has to fight to keep his eyes open. “N-no, I’m sorry, Master.”

Minseok’s face in the mirror is nothing short of predatory. He loves watching Junmyeon squirm and cry, gets off on the power of having his slave at his beck and call, his mercy. He pours lube in his hand and starts to jack himself off. He groans as he squeezes around the base and uses his free hand to drag his nails down the sore skin of Junmyeon’s ass. “Then answer me: do you want my cock? Do you want me to fuck you until I come, use you? You may put your head down until I tell you otherwise.”

“Yes, yes, please! I want it!” Junmyeon buries his face in his arms and screams out the counts for the next four slaps to his left cheek. He only has seven more to get through but he isn’t sure if he’ll make it that long. 

Minseok chuckles. Strands of black hair fall into his face when he leans forward and bites the tip of Junmyeon’s ear. “Maybe you’ll get it.  _ If _ I decide you deserve it, and I’m not sure you do. You were a horrible brat tonight. Breaking rules  _ and  _ trying to talk back to me about your punishment.”

It’s all so much. Junmyeon gasps for air.

“Twenty-four! Twenty-five! Twenty-six! I’m sorry, I’ll be good! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, Master. I w-won’t do it again!” He screams and reaches out with one arm to grasp for Minseok, wanting something to ground himself. 

He screams and kicks out when the fucking machine is turned up to its highest setting instead. He’s so close and he doesn’t want it. Junmyeon just wants Minseok to use him to come and then leave him be; he doesn’t want the horrible pleasure that’s making his vision blur, jaw clenching through the pain of it. 

“I know you won’t, because while you may be a bit bratty sometimes, you are my good boy at heart. Eyes up. Watch yourself come again.”

Junmyeon manages to raise his head and open his eyes just as Minseok spanks him the final four times. “Twenty-seven, twenty-eight! Twenty-n-ine!  _ Thirty!”  _ He comes, bawling, squirming, stuck watching himself writhe and cry. It’s horrible, muscles convulsing, nerves screaming for rest because he’s just not meant to come again that fast. The machine doesn’t let up, quick, vicious rhythm that pushes his orgasm along, dragging it out like a bed of nails against his back.

Minseok’s hand is flying over his own cock. “You’re so beautiful,” he groans, “So fucking sexy. Look at you, look at you. Going to come just from looking at you.” Hot spurts of cum land on Junmyeon’s back as Minseok tips his head back, bottom lip caught between his teeth. 

The sensation is nice, would be soothing if it weren’t for the dildo in his ass that keeps going and going and going even when Junmyeon wails and beats his fist against the mattress. It  _ hurts.  _

And he knows it’s selfish to interrupt his Master’s orgasm, but it just  _ hurts so much.  _ Junmyeon will take any other sort of punishment Minseok wants, just not this, not anymore.

“Please make it stop,” he wails, voice hoarse from screaming. “Please, Master, please make it stop. I-I can’t. I  _ can’t,  _ Minseok, hyung,  _ please!”  _

The machine is shut off just as it finishes pulling out of him. Minseok curses, tucking his still half-hard cock back into his pants and pushing the fucking machine away with his feet. He tugs Junmyeon up the bed and into his arms. “Oh no, oh shit, Junmyeonnie. Junmyeon, I’m sorry, I should’ve turned it off after you came. Hush, baby, it’s over. No more punishments, love, don’t talk like that. You’re forgiven. You did so  _ well.  _ I’m so proud of you. Deep breaths. Deep, deep breaths.”

They rock back and forth. Junmyeon is held tight in Minseok’s arms, kisses raining down on his face so sweetly. Minseok’s voice shifts out of his dominant persona and back to Junmyeon’s husband, soft and warm and loving, indulgent in the worst way because Junmyeon is his favorite. “No more Master. It’s just Minseok now, hyung if you’re feeling sweet. I love you. I love you  _ so  _ much, baby. There you go, calm down, just like that.”

“Love you too, hyung,” Junmyeon rubs his face against Minseok’s shoulder, smears tears and snot and drool all over the linen. “Hold me. I won’t be a brat anymore, I promise. Please hold me. A-and I’m green, I’m still green. You didn’t go too far.”

“You sure? You’re crying pretty hard. I think I went a little too far with the machine. I know it overwhelms you sometimes and I turned it all the way up.”

Junmyeon nods. A headache is already building in his temples, eyes sore from crying. Minseok will go get him a painkiller before they go to bed though, he always does when play gets this intense. “You turned it off when I asked. I never thought you didn’t love me, so it’s okay. A-and I’m sorry, but can you…” He gently presses his finger to Minseok’s lips, just wanting to snuggle into his husband and let the adrenaline drain out of him.

“I’ll stop talking,” Minseok laughs softly. He rolls them down onto the bed and tugs one of the extra throw blankets they keep on the headboard down to cover them up. “You like quiet when you’re coming down, I know. Just tap my arm twice when you’re ready for me to get up and get our aftercare stuff from under the bed, alright?”

Later, after they’ve both been cleaned off and sucked down two water bottles apiece, they settle in bed again. The collar is set back in it’s soft, padded box for the morning. Junmyeon sighs as Minseok slips between the sheets to lie down beside him, balm cooling the burn on his ass.

Minseok has completely shifted out of his dominant headspace, focused on spoiling Junmyeon rotten. Junmyeon feels much the same, not a bit of slave left in him. He’s messy, silly Junmyeon again, and absolutely exhausted.

Junmyeon isn’t sure if they'll actually end up playing at all for the rest of the weekend. Tonight was much more intense than either of them had planned. Minseok is obviously blaming himself for how things got a little out of hand, but Junmyeon doesn’t mind all that much. He chose to be a brat, he knew exactly what he was getting himself into.

Junmyeon still wants to get fucked because Minseok promised him cock, but he wouldn’t mind if it was between Minseok and Junmyeon, husbands and cat-parents, instead of Master and his boy. 

“I want to talk about what happened tonight, at the club and at home. I don’t want to play like this again without discussing it first. And I need to know what had you so distressed at the club that you acted out like that,” Minseok kisses Junmyeon softly, nuzzling their noses together. Junmyeon nods. 

“My ass hurts,” he giggles.

Minseok snorts, reaching down to gently pat at the small of his back above where he’s sore and stinging. “Yeah, well, maybe don’t misbehave next time, huh, brat? Mm, I love you.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! If you liked it, please leave a kudos and a comment! You can find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/killmeDO) and [Curious Cat](https://curiouscat.me/killmeDO) Sometimes I talk about what I'm working on next and post snippets! I'd love to hear from you <3


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